Spies in Skates [Book Three]

Chapter Nine: Sometimes Being Positive Isn't Exactly Easy As Pie

Whoo, hello! Glad I could update - this chapter was such a bear ugh I'm still not happy with it but whatever. I'm sorry :/ and I hate this chapter title but I sat for like twenty minutes trying to think of one and failed...blah. Well, only one more day of school and then 3 days of exams...my lit exam is tomorrow and I still haven't studied but frankly I couldn't care less. I need summer so bad that my head's exploding haha. Hope you like this chapter! Please shoot me a comment and tell me what you think! :)

Gracias! <3 vb123321

Chapter Nine

Sometimes Being Positive Isn't Exactly Easy As Pie

I don't know how many hours we spent sitting in the ER draped against the couches, just staring at the wall. When we had arrived, we had been told that Zach was being rushed into emergency surgery and only time could tell what would happen next. After fighting with the receptionist for a solid ten minutes and failing to be allowed further into the hospital, Patrick had stood in the corner of the lobby and called Jer, his face whiter than the walls.

When the police had showed up, Patrick had refused to talk to them, and they quit trying to make him after he showed them something, which I suspected was a CIA badge. He agreed to talk to them once his superior arrived, but it was clear he had no intention of doing so.

And then we hadn't spoken for the next however many hours, both of us drowning in our anxiety. My sweats were still soaked to my skin, my hair a bird's nest once I tugged my hat off, and my Uggs were so soggy that they squished out water when I moved my toes, but I just sat there waiting. Patrick was bent over on the couch, his head in his hands, unmoving.

I guess we really must have been sitting there for ages – the receptionist's suggestion for us to get something to drink went unanswered – because before we knew it, distraction arrived in the form of a car's tires burning rubber making so much noise that we heard it from inside the hospital. A moment later, Jer came storming into the waiting room, his eyes ablaze. He was limping badly, his leg still severely hurt from being shot, but he ignored it.

"Where the hell is she?" he demanded, pushing past Patrick as the blonde agent leaped to his feet.

I looked up at him, relief lumping in my throat so suddenly that tears began leaking out of my eyes, though I hadn't cried for hours and hours. Jer pulled me off the couch and into his arms, hugging me so tightly that I almost couldn't breathe. Though his chest was reassuringly firm as I pressed my face against it, his arms were shaking. Knowing him, he had probably broken every single speed limit from Chicago to here.

"It's going to be okay, Nat," he said shakily, exhaling. He wobbled a little on his bad leg, balancing his weight. "Thank God you're okay...everything's going to be fine..."

"But Zach – Zach –" I couldn't stop sobbing into his shirt.

"He'll be all right, Nat." Jer gripped my arms firmly. "He's with the doctors now, right? He's gonna make it." And then he added, "He better make it, 'cause I've gotta kill him for getting you messed up in this again."

This only made me cry harder, and Jer sighed, patting my back.

"I'm kidding, Nat, I'm sorry." He released me and smoothed my hair back from my face with a worried smile. "You're not hurt, right? Hunter didn't see you?"

I shook my head tremulously. "N-no, he didn't."

"Thank God." Jer breathed out heavily, squeezing my wrists. "Ryan about scared the crap out of me when he called..."

Patrick spoke up. "Jer, we're gonna have a problem – the hospital called the police because of the stab wound. I got rid of them for now, but..."